Page 8 of Nobody Wants Me
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Freya
There was no point in giving Victor money.There was no point in attempting to cook for him.I had nothing to give him, and most of the time he seemed to hate me on principle.I saw how much he visited his shed, and I came to realize that nearly all the furniture in his home was made by him.
He was a maker, a builder.After some research online, I got the idea to make him a quilt.It was lame, but quilts held a lot of value.A person took time and put their everything into a quilt.It was a piece of them, given to someone else, and could become an heirloom.
Victor had cut it into pieces.Precious fabric discarded like nothing.He didn’t want anything from me, and I just wanted to say thank you for the shelves and everything he had done for me.This hurt as much if not more than when my father trashed my home, destroying everything I owned, because I wouldn’t get plastic surgery.Although, I didn’t cry.
Several of his people helped clean up the mess.I apologized to them, tried my best to pick up the pieces and quickly stuff them in a trash bag, so no one would know what I had done.They probably thought it was stupid.Victor sure didn’t like it, and that was fine.
Once the downstairs was cleaned, and not a speck of the quilt remaining, I thanked them as well as apologized.If I didn’t have the stupid idea of making him something, he wouldn’t have had to destroy it.I got the message.My husband wanted nothing to do with me.That was fine.
I didn’t go back to my sewing room.In that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to sit in the room that brought me so much pleasure and had irritated Victor.
The lights were already turned off.So, instead, I went to my bedroom.I took a quick shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth.I felt ...numb.
When I went out to the shed, I had hoped to mend fences, or at least try to make this situation amicable.Although, I heard what he said to Umberto.It hurt.It was like I was being punched in the gut, and someone had grabbed my heart, twisted it, and then thrust a needle straight into it.I should have known better.Nobody wants me.
My own mother left after she gave birth to me.Took the money my father paid to keep me, and was gone.Most of my nannies left me alone.They were more interested in sleeping with my father.
My father hated me.
My brothers hated me.
I even dreaded getting a dog, in case the dog hated me as well.Dogs were supposed to be loving and loyal.I don’t know if I could handle a dog not liking me.
I didn’t know for sure what exactly I had done to Ivan Volkov to make him hate me so much, to marry me off to one of his men.
I’d never met Ivan Volkov.We danced at my wedding, and he’d been nice.He asked me if I liked the service, and if I liked the dress.It was the first time anyone had asked me if I liked anything at my own wedding.I’d been polite and lied, told him it was beautiful.
The service had been wonderful.The only problem was, there were too many people, and they had used daffodils rather than roses.I loved the color purple, and the color scheme had been red and yellow, which I didn’t like.I hated it.
It hadn’t really been a wedding for me.I didn’t get a say in any part of it.Also, the cake had been a fruitcake.I preferred a vanilla cake, with coconut icing.
After my shower, I climbed into bed, stilling feeling numb.Sleep wouldn’t come.I was tired, but my mind was racing.
Ivan was coming tomorrow, with someone else.I hoped it wouldn’t be my father.Victor didn’t say who his plus-one was going to be.I could attempt to hide.It was easy to hide, although the thought of going into my sewing room right now made me feel so sick.
Throwing off the blanket, I padded toward one of the doors.I had an en-suite bathroom as well as a closet.The closet was like another room entirely, and I had been able to keep my homemade wardrobe, as well as my beauty space, in one room.
Tying my hair back, I slid some clips into place, pulling my hair off my face.There was no point in lying in bed and letting time slip by.Turning on the lights, I delved into my drawers, finding what I needed, and placed them on the desk.
I sat down at my vanity table and looked at my reflection.There was no laughter, no life in my eyes.There was nothing.
Taking a deep breath, I felt the pain in my stomach as it churned, and I tried to ignore it.I picked up some moisturizer and pumped some onto my fingers, prepping my skin.Most of my skin care had already sunk in, and I used this to revitalize my skin ready for makeup.
I moved to my palette storage, and rummaged through them, trying to find one that called to me.No one was going to see this makeup.By the time I was downstairs tomorrow, I would look fine.Tonight, I could experiment, just enjoy the process of makeup, and try to deal with what happened today.
I wanted to cry.I wanted to scream.
Instead, I chose two palettes and took them to the desk.Prepping my eyes, I added some eye primer, blended, and set it down with some powder.Opening one of the palettes, it had bright spring colors.Warm and vibrant.Picking up the vibrant blue, I got to work building up my eyes.There was no color cohesion, just a woman playing with makeup to pass the time.I was so tired, but couldn’t seem to stop myself.I imagine if I was ever allowed to work, this is what I would be doing all day and night to rid myself of these feelings.Admittedly, I was used to them when it came to my brothers and father.
I paused after swathing my eyes in blue eye shadow.Staring at my reflection, I quickly glanced through my palette, and then used a bright white to contrast the color.For the next hour, I worked on my eyes, adding little intricate details, drawing out a blue wing, adding some black eyeliner.It wasn’t a work of art, just having some fun and getting lost in the makeup.
All I did was make him a quilt, and he acted like it was some kind of monster.What kind of person did that?Not that I knew who Victor was.I barely knew the man.The irony was, I also knew him on the most personal level as well.It was so freaking crazy.
After I finished my eyes, I got to work on the foundation.I did not need to put on full-face makeup, but it helped distract me.Time ticked by, and I don’t know when I got in the habit of taking a picture of my designs, but I did.Lifting my camera, I made sure I could see the angle, and then I took a picture of my outlandish blue-white eye look, complete with a full face of makeup.
